Tears of Blood
by Vivid Tear
Summary: You feel your eyes water. With a weak hand, you wipe it away. Upon contact, you realize that isn't the normal saltwater tear. It is red. Tears of blood. You're too distracted to notice the blade that is being brought down. Straight towards your heart.
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Hi! You people haven't answered the poll. I'm very disappointed in you. ;_;

Don't you love me? Then vote. Now. I command you. :D

Time to read~

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><p><em><strong>Tears of Blood<strong>_

You know it's all over when he drags you to that dark, empty room. When he chains you to the wall, you wonder, _what went wrong?_

It's just you for the next week or so. The only company you have is the shrieks of torment from other rooms and the shadows that creep around in the night.

No food. No water. That just adds to your list. You get used to the constant pining in your empty stomach. Your mouth is dustier than an attic, but it doesn't matter. It gives you more time to think, to wonder when it all changed.

You have nightmares of reality, and dreams of the past. Before he left. Before he went to Kronos. Before he _betrayed _you and left you all alone.

Reality hurts. It makes you think that right is wrong and up is down. It makes you finally see the truth behind the fake smiles and phony laughs. And when something _good _finally happens, it crumbles before your very eyes.

From time to time, you see him peer into the prison. His blue eyes gleam, holding a sadistic light. The kind of light you can't see until the end. The end of you.

It seems like millennia had gone by before he comes in. His eyes, which used to be such a pure blue, are now a cruel golden. The eyes of Kronos. The door creaks shut behind him, all light gone. It's just you and him.

He holds out a knife, gleaming eerie silver in the darkness. He approaches. You're cold, hungry, and still chained to that blasted wall. Too weak to move, too weak to protect yourself.

He bends down, meeting your used-to-be electric blue eyes. They're now a dull blue, the color of sadness, regret, and pain.

The knife slides on top of your skin, and you shiver. The cool metal glides, not harming you, but making you hurt all the same. He points the tip to your neck.

A bead of blood falls, the crimson color tainting your skin. He yanks the knife away, as if killing you directly was a waste of a perfectly good slave.

You attempt to glare at him, but make a mistake looking at his eyes. They have a hungry look in them, as if craving for your blood. Craving for your death.

As you study the knife, it finally dawns to you why he isn't using his scythe. You're not important enough. And it burns, getting tossed around all those years just to be killed by a knife, by such a simple weapon.

He glides the knife against your skin again, leaving an icy feeling in its wake. He stops at your hand, and digs it in. Dark drops appear, staining the knife. You feel an odd satisfaction, as if this was what you wanted all along.

And that's right. He tortures you by taking away your will to live. You want to die already, and he hasn't even begun.

He seems to carve something into the palm of your hand. Ruby glistens in the light of the knife, and you feel a twisted feeling bloom in your heart.

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><p><em>You love the crimson blood that drips off your wounds. It burns, but it feels so right.<em>

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><p>He finishes up, and glances over his work. Smirking at you, he leaves, apparently having done enough for the day.<p>

You glance at your hand. It feels sticky and warm, red dripping off, leaving a sickening _plit-plat _as it touches the ground. You feel accomplished, knowing that you'll die soon.

The blood dries, and you finally get a look at the marks. The symbol of Kronos, forever on you. It feels so wrong, but you enjoy it. You crave the weapon that'll bring the end of your torture.

As dawn arrives and the stars start to fade, a plate is slid to you. There's old bread that must've been out for months, and a tin of rusty water. You push it away, for you have gotten used to the empty feeling. You're so hungry; you don't even feel it anymore. Why should you eat then?

You don't know when he'll arrive again. All you know is that soon enough, he'll bring you sweet, sweet relief. Just one well-placed stab…

Many moons past before he comes again. His golden eyes are as golden as ever, and you miss those sky blue eyes that were there before.

You don't know how you feel. You miss the old days, yet you want the end to come. Be placed somewhere in the Underworld and lose all those memories that cause your heart to clench up.

He carries the same knife that was tarnished from your blood. He walks toward you, every step seeming to take a thousand years. You feel a shiver down your spine; maybe today was your lucky day.

No such luck. He taunts you by not doing anything. He slides it against your stomach, and sneers. Giving a little pressure, the blade digs in a little. Just enough to unleash a few drops of the cherished blood. Your stomach stings, but you smile.

Your mind has twisted, and all you want is your death. He touches the tip with his finger, gathering a little of the warm liquid. You cringe, wondering what he's about to do.

He wipes it off with a sick smile and focuses his attention to you. Holding the knife, he points it straight at your heart, pushing it down. It isn't enough to draw blood, but you feel that stinging feeling.

After messing with you for a few more minutes, he leaves, shutting the door with a slam behind him. You feel frustrated. All you want is a bigger wound.

You drink some of the leftover water and glance at your palm. The cuts have closed, leaving behind angry red welts. As you finger them, they start to open up a little. You smirk, feeling the satisfying pain.

That night, you stare at the stars. Hercules, Ursa Major, the Huntress. You remember her every well, and it reminds you of all the others you have left behind. Percy, Grover, Annabeth, and all the others.

You dismiss the tears forming in your eyes. You have been _so selfish. _Wanting to leave the world behind, just to leave your friends as well. It was too late to go back and change everything.

Since you were just a little baby, you have learned not to trust anybody. The first example was your stupid, alcoholic mother. She had neglected all your needs, and suddenly pops up with another baby on her hands. Your little brother; Jason Grace.

When she takes you out, she sends you to get the basket. When you return, all that is left of your darling little brother are memories.

You fall asleep to that thought. The next morning, as the sun rises, he comes again. The knife is in his hand, blending in with the dreary background. Kneeling down, he drags the blade softly down your back, and the hairs on your arms rise.

As he gets to the center, he pushes the knife down. Pain jolts you wide awake, and your back feels all tingly. You grimace, although a ghost of a smile is forming on your lips.

As the crimson blood slides down your back, he makes more slashes. All of them are shallow, but you smile. The ground behind you starts to stain, turning into a rusty color.

After a while, he finds that you are enjoying yourself. He takes out some nectar. Trickling a little onto your wounds, you feel them close up. The glimmering gold beverage blends in with the dark blood, creating a gruesome color.

He stands up and walks out, leaving you feeling used. You slump down towards the ground. At random intervals of the day, you would hear shrieks and cries of the other tortured souls. Some of them sound vaguely familiar, but at that point, you don't remember anymore.

As nightfall comes and the light fades away, he comes again. He doesn't taunt and tease you this time, however. He makes cuts on your clothes, completely destroying them. As the fabric floats away, you realize what's going to happen.

All you remember of that night is the searing pain between your legs and the cuts that he made. You feel dirty and used. There's a puddle of blood surrounding you. At this point, you don't have anything on and the remains of your clothes are in tatters and barely recognizable anymore.

It continues like this for a few more nights. He would cut you, rape you, and then trickle some nectar on your wounds if they were severe enough to kill you.

On the final night however, you know that something's up. The light in his eyes are harsher than usual, and he starts by making a deep slash at your chest. Blood is dribbling out everywhere, and you smile faintly, knowing that this was it.

He kicks you and punches you. After a while, there are so many bruises on you that you forgot what you looked like before.

As you lay on the stone floor, gasping for air, he holds out the knife. In a swift downwards motion, he stabs you, narrowly missing your internal organs. He smirks sadistically, knowing that that'll delay the end.

He watches you for a few minutes. You cough, and out spurts a dark, almost black liquid that you soon realize is your blood. Your body is glistening with the ruby liquid. The pain is almost too much for you to endure. In fact, it's a wonder why you haven't fainted yet from loss of blood.

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><p><em>You accept it, however, because you know it'll end with one well-placed stab.<em>

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><p>He makes several more stabs. There's a long cut on your leg, and the other is spurting out the blood like a fountain. There's a shallow cut under you right eye, sure to turn into a scar.<p>

You feel weak and faint, but you know that he's only starting. He kicks your side, leaving you wincing on the ground. One punch to your face and it leaves your nose broken. Blood is trickling out, leaving a coppery taste in your mouth.

You could feel your head slowly bleed from when it crashed into the wall. He kicks your skull, leaving everything fuzzy. With an expert stomp, he cracks your skull, which hurts worse than everything else put together.

You feel your eyes water. With a weak hand, you wipe it away. Upon contact, you realize that isn't the normal saltwater tear. It is red.

Tears of blood.

They say that you cry tears of blood when something too tragic to even explain happens. You're too distracted to notice the blade that is being brought down.

Straight towards your heart.

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><p>AN

Done! :D

Geez, that was harsh. Whatever. I've been writing too many happy things lately.

Remember to vote on the poll on my page. OR ELSE.

:D


	2. Bye-bye!

Alright, so I thought people would get the message after I dropped off the face of the Earth, but guess not.

I'm done with this place. The experience was great, but I've switched writing websites. Can I just say that my writing has improved since I started on this website? If you're curious, I'm Vivinin on Wattpad. It's a lot more colorful and user-friendly. XD

So thanks for all the support! I appreciate you sticking with my terrible writing and I hope you guys all have a wonderful life and/or happily ever after. :D

Bye-bye!


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